Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Here we are again

Here we are again,
In that awkward “almost” moment
Where we don’t know whether to smile or run away.
That calm before the storm. That everything is silent, holding your breath, balancing on the edge of a knife, moment.
Because we haven’t talked in weeks.
And I’ve fought it every day, like a cancer patient fighting a disease, and I think you have too.
Like teenagers in the dark, so close but afraid to touch each other. And the sound of their hearts pounding in their ears, cold hands and an extra helping of nerves.
That infinite feeling of almost. Of maybe.
Like, maybe you didn't call because you hated yourself for the depths you dragged me down to. For giving an angel the opportunity to fall. And you never meant for it to go that far, paving the road to Hell with your wish-they-were good intentions.
Like, maybe I hated you for pulling me into your tempting, twisted underworld, where the demons look like saviors and every decision is made on the edge of a cliff.
A place where lines of white powder and crystal clear pills promise we’ll love like we mean it, and be loved like the sun loves the moon.
But promises are made to be broken, aren't they?
There you are, with your eyes shining in the sun.
The substance abuse pied piper, and I follow every time with a smile and faith that I won’t be led astray.
But you lead me to another circle of hell. I am a modern day, naive, love struck Dante, and the moment I see you, I know.
I know what tonight will bring and I know the tidal wave of regret and self-hatred that comes with the dawn of tomorrow.
Each black thought taking root in my chest, shooting up in a matter of seconds, blocking out the sun. And when the leaves fall they say things like,
Why can’t you say no?
And
This can’t be who you've become.
And I shiver in the coldness of my own soul, because I know that they’re right.
Pull out your credit card and ruin my life with two perfectly straight white lines,
And I wonder how something the color of faith and love and everything good in the world,
Could break me into so many pieces.
Most of which you keep in your pocket.
Broken trophies of your successful attempts to kill innocence in whatever way you can.
Look at me and smile like you love me.
Like I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and I’ll stare at your lips like Eve did the apple in the Garden of Eden,
Saying,
Surely it can’t hurt.
Because I swear, you could be the Devil himself,
But with that smile I would sell my soul faster than you could say,
I’m not worth it.
In the silence as you hand me the rolled up bill,
The hospital waiting room silence,
The right before the Titanic hit an iceberg silence,
The hush, baby, I didn't mean it silence,
I could almost feel your hands on my shoulders,
Ready to rip from my back the wings that no one notices but you.
But I don’t make a move to stop you.
Because, honestly?

The pain is the best fucking part.